


Gear and Grind

by gerardsjuarez



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Dressing Room Sex, Dry Humping, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Millennium Falcon - Freeform, Touring, Yes I Said Millennium Falcon, sorry mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 22:45:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18882763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerardsjuarez/pseuds/gerardsjuarez
Summary: Gerard talks metaphors, Bob drinks tea, Mikey gets hearts drawn on his hips, Ray makes fun of his band member's sex tape, and Frank sees Star Wars in a new light.





	Gear and Grind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Acadjonne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acadjonne/gifts).



> Me: part of me wants to write a really sweaty mcr fic. like theyre on tour and its like? revenge-ish era?  
> Me: for some reason my brain wants to describe it as 'gear and grind'  
> Me: idk what that means tho  
> Elle: Frank rubs his boner into his guitar during soundcheck and Gerard pulls him aside for some dry humping  
> Me: QUIT READING MY THOUGHTS
> 
> and thus, this fic was born. enjoi

He’s what they call… a sexually ambiguous punk. 

The whole fucking band knew by then because, well, he talked a lot. Like a lot. He didn’t really have a blog or whatever that he would soil with his fantasies or whatever thing he was testing out that week. Poor Mikey had to withstand a conversation in which he jocularly explained how he discovered choking. Ray had heard one too many adventures in exhibitionism. Bob mostly tuned him out. Gerard, well, whenever Frank talked about anything, he usually put his headphones in and drew aggressive sketches in his artbook.

Generally, the band was really honest about sexual stuff. Ray had his magazines, Bob had his tape collection, Mikey mostly reserved it for the people he hooked up with, and Gerard sure did have a fun time ‘reading’ in his bunk late at night. 

“Frank?” Ray waved his hand in front of his face, looking a little concerned, “You there?”

“Yeah.” Frank sat up and looked around the room.

Gerard looked pissy, Mikey looked indifferent, Bob was nowhere to be seen, and Ray just looked plain confused. Frank looked down at his lap and then back to Gerard. At some point in his absent-mindedness, he’d snatched Gerard’s lighter and was flicking it rather obnoxiously. With a guilty smile, he handed it back.

“What?” Frank asked. Gerard still looked pissy even though he gave it back. 

“I’ve been talking to you for the past half hour.” He crossed his arms.

He blinked, “Was it serious?”

From the couch, Mikey said, “Not really. It started out serious but Gerard got distracted along the way.”

“So nothing unusual.” Bob piped in, emerging from his bunk with a mug of hot tea.

“I was talking about metaphors!” Gerard said with a red face, “With  _ Frank _ . So stay out of it.”

Unable to stop himself, Frank snorted, “Metaphors?”

“Ugh, forget it,” Gerard mumbled and stormed off to the lounge.

“What’s his deal?” Frank asked when he sat down next to Mikey.

“Fuck if I know.” He paused, “Wanna prank call Brian again? He’s at Walmart right now.”

“Absolutely.”

…

There was a day off from touring and as much as Frank loved to play literally anything and everything, he was glad. It wasn’t a hotel night, though, which sucked big ass but Mikey had just bought all of these colored Sharpies and Frank wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Pun intended. 

About a week ago, Gerard got all fucking pissy because Frank asked for a singular black marker to sketch out a new tattoo so Frank stole it when he wasn’t looking since Gerard was so keen not letting Frank have one. Gerard found him in his bunk with the marker, sketching away and  _ tore the marker from his hands _ . He messed up the drawing, too, and Frank was determined to fuck something of Gerard’s up as payback but didn’t really have it in him. But then the wonderful Mikey Way went into Hobby Lobby with Frank and bought a  _ fuck _ ton of different colors of Sharpie. He was on top of the world.

Frank swore it just started out as drawing on blank sheets of printer paper but one thing led to another and Mikey ended up shirtless, resting on Frank’s lap. 

Okay, that sounded bad. Frank was  _ drawing _ on Mikey. They hadn’t done much hanging out and they were at a rest stop and the idea… hit the two of them. Ray and Bob were playing truck stop arcade games and Gerard went out for cigarettes with Brian so what else did Frank and Mikey have to do besides draw on each other?

That was rhetorical.

So far, Frank had done meaningless doodles on Mikey’s back but eventually, he got uncomfortable with Frank’s legs digging into his throat so Frank had switched to drawing some of his own tattoos on Mikey’s chest. Mostly because it was funny to see how strange it looked on such a pale, skinny dude. Frank would never admit it to anyone but he kind of envied Mikey’s ability to have such a flat stomach. In his frustration, he drew a line of hearts on Mikey’s lower stomach.

“Don’t you think those are a little low?” Mikey asked. Frank searched for any suspicion or anger in his tone but didn’t find any.

“Not as low as they  _ could _ go.”

“Frank,” He said, eye roll in his voice.

“I’m just saying!” He laughed and as a result, fucked up one of the hearts, “Ah, shit.”

Gerard and Brian decided that they would reenter the bus when Frank was trying to rub off the wonky heart on Mikey’s hip. 

Brian didn’t seem remotely phased - he’d walked in on worse - while Gerard went bright fucking red and nearly yelled, “What’s going on?”

Shamefully, they scrambled away from each other. Mikey clumsily threw on his shirt, “You wouldn’t let us use your markers so Frank and I bought some.”

“I was giving Mikey Sharpie tattoos.” 

Gerard’s accusing finger lowered slightly but he remained, “Keep your hands off of Mikey’s…” he gestured vaguely to Mikey’s person.

Frank’s eyes widened because, yeah, he had thought about it while he was drawing them but having Gerard say it out loud made him feel all kinds of ‘no’, “Jesus Christ, Gerard!”

Suddenly, Mikey’s face looked as hard as stone, “Lounge. Now.” 

“But-”

“Do you want to talk about it  _ outside _ of the lounge? Because I’m sure what Frank and I were doing was none of your business and what I have to say to you isn’t his business. And Frank respects that, right, Frank?”

“Yeah?” He didn’t like getting pulled into the Ways’ arguments. They tended to get brutal real quick.

Gerard crossed his arms, huffed, and went with Mikey toward the lounge. Frank sat dumbfounded for a good minute until he went back to coloring on a blank sheet of paper. 

…

By far, the weirdest sound check he had ever experienced was the one he was doing right then. A couple of microphones had gone missing at some point and that wasn’t completely unusual but what  _ was _ unusual was the fact that the person who had stolen them was enthusiastically moaning into them. The techs were busy finding whoever was at fault so Frank and the rest of the band (minus Gerard and Mikey who were getting coffee or whatever) had to sit on stage and listen to some random guy, well, get some.

Ray was mocking the endless soundtrack and Frank was nearly on the floor dying with laughter. When the Way brothers came back, they were as disgusted and as confused as everyone else. Mikey went up to Ray to try to convince him to ‘stop making those faces’ while Gerard came over to Frank, leaned against his mic stand, and shared his coffee.

“Are there any updates on who done it?” Gerard asked, watching Frank take a sip.

He swallowed, “Nope. So far Brian and the ladies from tech are on a goose chase.”

“That’s lame.” He frowned, “I just wanna know who’s playing the recording so I can punch them.”

Frank blinked. His voice echoed, “Recording?”

Gerard froze, “Uh,”

“What do you mean ‘recording’?” Brian asked, having apparently entered at some point.

“It’s, um, well-"

“Dear fucking Lord, I knew this sounded familiar.” Mikey huffed, “Someone is playing the audio from a video Gerard thought needed to be taped.”

“First off, I was drunk as hell. My morals weren’t working as well as usual.” He pointed a stern finger at his brother, growing red in the face, “Second, I threw away that tape.”

Ray and Bob exchanged glances.

“Ugh, okay! Toro and I found the tape and kept it. Mostly for blackmail material but from the sounds of it, someone found it in one of our bags.” Bob crossed his arms, drumstick still in hand.

Frank didn’t know if he was elated or disgusted. He officially knew what his lead singer sounded like while having sex. Alright. What was he supposed to do with this information?

…

That night’s show was, for lack of better words, fucking fantastic. Mikey wore some sort of cropped shirt that showed off the hearts Frank had drawn. A lot of the teenagers in the front row were taking pictures with their camera phones - it was amazing. Gerard was wearing a new makeup look due to some of Frank’s advice, switching out the signature red for a shimmery purple. He looked like he was a rejected audition for Dr. Frank N. Furter. Well, minus the lingerie. Though Frank would admit, it wouldn’t be a bad touch.

After nearly taking Ray’s eye out and being reprimanded by Mikey with looks alone, Frank took to violating the speaker near his feet. He’d sat on a few speakers in his lifetime and in short, he never remembered that it felt  _ that _ good. He rocked a little bit on it and sighed because  _ damn _ , that’s why. On about the third or fourth thrust, he made eye contact with Gerard.

They were playing  _ Prison _ and generally, a lot of sexual or some Not So Catholic things happened. Most of the time, it was Gerard who moaned or decided a striptease was in order but Frank had taken upon himself to fuck himself against a speaker. He was gonna get yelled at by the tech ladies again. Fucking hell.

With that thought in mind, he rose to his feet, hard, and continued to play as if nothing had ever happened. Okay, well, not exactly like  _ nothing _ had happened because Frank was still hard and his guitar was  _ right there _ . In the end, he tried his best to subtly grind against the guitar but then all of a sudden, Gerard was next to him, singing passionately, and he promptly stuck his hand down Frank’s shirt. Frank sort of gave Gerard a smile because what the fuck was he trying to cop a feel of? But Gerard’s eyes were dark and Frank had to go play near Ray for a bit to calm down.

After the show, one of the tech ladies, red in the face, told Frank to  _ please _ stop grinding on expensive speakers, thank you. He apologized and tried to make it back to the dressing room where his phone was but it seemed another confrontation needed to happen.

It was Mikey, “Dude, that was so gross.”

“Oh, sure. Speakers are hot, I’m hot, what’s not to love?”

“Not that, asshole. You and Gerard. The other thing wasn’t gross but that’s not what we’re talking about.” He gave Frank a Look, “What was he trying to do to you? Feel your boobs?”

Frank laughed, “That’s what I thought!”

It seemed that was all Mikey really wanted to say about that, “Did my shirt look stupid? I wanted to show off the hearts.”

“Dude, girls were taking photos of your hips! You were hot as fuck.” He reassured Mikey.

He rolled his eyes, “I guess you were hot as fuck, too.”

“Thanks, man.” He grinned, taking the compliment even if Mikey hadn’t been too serious about it.

“Also, um,” he looked down the hallway before turning back to Frank, “Gerard’s in the dressing room. If you need him.”

“Why would I need him?” Frank mumbled to himself as he watched Mikey walk away.

Gerard was probably upset at him for… for something. It wasn’t really his decision on what he could or couldn’t do on stage. It was an 18+ crowd, too, so it wasn’t like any 11-year-old saw him get hard or anything. Despite the guilt, he walked into the dressing room to see just exactly what Frank needed Gerard for and was utterly surprised to see Gerard in the midst of changing. He usually wore his stage clothes to the hotel or bus or whatever.

Before Frank could say anything, Gerard grinned and said, “You,”

“Me?”

Gerard made the effort to throw his pants onto the ground before, rather aggressively, kissing Frank on the mouth.

“Oh!” He mumbled, kissing back.

This really explained a lot.

“You,” Gerard repeated, pulling away and placing kisses on Frank’s face, “are sweaty. And gross. And irresistible.”

“One of those things is not like the other.” Frank chuckled, “Where’s this coming from?”

“Years of pent up frustration.” He sighed, stopping the sloberfest to put his hands on Frank’s shoulders, “But this is okay? Mikey said you like me, too. Love me, even.”

“Duh, I tell you I love you all the time,” Frank said automatically but paused. He was talking about a different kind of love and one that Frank was all too familiar with ever since the van days, “Oh.”

“So,” he cupped Frank’s face, “do you, then?”

“Of course I love you like that.” 

He really did. He was pretty good at hiding his feelings, though. After years of practice since 2002, he was in pretty good shape. Either Gerard was really good at picking up on very subtle cues or he had just kissed him on a whim. That made Frank grin ear to ear.

“Great, because if you didn’t what I’m about to suggest would’ve gone horribly.” He grinned and said in a quieter voice, “Also, I love you, too.”

“What were you going to suggest?”

Gerard’s smile was replaced with bedroom eyes, “What you did to that speaker tonight was… something. I was wondering if you would be willing to replace sound equipment with me.”

The thoughts that filled Frank’s head made him feel like he had to go repent, “I’m sure you’d feel way better than a speaker.”

“Damn right I do.” He said in a low voice before shoving Frank against the wall and kissing him.

Frank wasn’t entirely sure what Gerard had meant by replacing sound equipment with him but then Gerard’s thigh pressed against his crotch and he for fucking sure knew  _ exactly _ what he meant. Dry humping wasn’t the most pleasurable thing he could think of doing with Gerard but he would take it slow. First dates don’t always start with fingering.

Okay,  _ most _ first dates, anyway.

Frank gripped onto Gerard’s hips, tried to ignore the fact that his boxers had the millennium falcon on it, and pressed back, causing Gerard to moan into Frank’s mouth. He took the opportunity to open the kiss, making it a lot less graceful and a lot messier. Gerard didn’t seem to mind, moving against Frank and moaning like a goddamn  _ whore _ . 

“Couch,” Gerard managed between kisses, “Move to the couch.”

Frank obeyed but didn’t part the kiss, moving the two of them to the dusty old green couch that sat in front of the mirrors. God,  _ mirrors _ . Heaven was seriously in his favor that night. He shoved Gerard down onto the couch and took him in for a second. He was downright horny and absolutely beautiful because if it. Not that he wasn’t beautiful every other day, he  _ was _ , but the fact that he was staring up at Frank with such an expectancy, such a waiting look with his dick hard and lips swollen that made Frank keen.

Gerard seemed confused but Frank just grinned and just about pounced on him, straddling one of his thighs. Gerard’s hands flew to Frank’s hair when he began to palm Gerard through his boxers, his mouth determined to leave bruises on Gerard’s neck.

Gerard was saying things like, “Oh my God, your  _ hands _ ,” and other filthy things into Frank’s ear as he worked.

His hands pulled at Frank’s hair when he came, groaning out Frank’s name among a list of some words that included ‘holy mother fucking shit’. Frank had been so distracted by the slack-jawed orgasm face Gerard had been pulling that he’d completely forgotten about himself. God, he could get off on just watching Gerard get off.

Once he was back to his senses, Gerard took it into his own hands - literally. He looked at Frank through his lashes and unbuttoned his jeans, slowly shoving his hand past Frank’s waistband of his non-Star Wars themed underwear. 

When Gerard’s hand was around him, he felt boneless, falling over onto Gerard’s shoulder with a moan. He’d honestly tried to kiss Gerard’s neck but it just felt so  _ good _ that he couldn’t do much more than breathe and chant Gerard’s name, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Lightly, Gerard pushed on Frank’s chest making him lean back. Frank gasped when Gerard pressed his thumb over his slit and Gerard took the opportunity to grab the back of Frank’s neck with his free hand and kiss him. The kiss didn’t last very long since Frank was about to lose it so in the end, Gerard whispered encouraging words to him with their foreheads pressed together.

“God, Frankie,” he sighed, “the number of times I wished I was the one jacking you off when I heard you? Innumerable.” 

Frank let out a breathy laugh, “I watched you jerk off once. In your bunk? You didn’t close the curtain all the way.”

Gerard let out a laugh, too, “I bet you liked that, didn’t you?”

“Oh,” Frank moaned, close, “I fucking  _ loved _ it.” 

“Next time, you should join me. I love the thrill of getting caught.” 

He came hard into Gerard’s hand.

After a few seconds, Frank watched as Gerard tried to subtly wipe his hand off on the couch. As disgusting as it was, Frank didn’t care. They were never seeing the venue again. 

Frank kissed him so he didn’t have to think about disgusting cum couches or who else had probably fucked on the same couch. Experimentally, he rolled his hips and Gerard made a noise as if to agree. They were so doing that again. Soon.

“Frank,” Gerard broke the kiss, “you gotta get me a new pair of underwear from the van before anyone comes back.”

“Shit,” his eyes grew wide, “I’ll be - I’ll be back in a second!”

He gave him a quick, painfully sweet kiss and bolted out of the dressing room. He caught sight of Mikey and they made eye contact as Frank zipped up his jeans, feeling quite sticky himself.

“Gerard needed me.” He said simply and sped off through the fire exit door.


End file.
